Spikes of talent
Scrawling, rambling lines
Crawl across a page.
Story unfolds, climbs, engulfs
Then climaxes through to finish.
Spikes of creativity, spikes of poetic rhyme,
An ode. a sonnet, lines of prose,
Limerick, metaphysics combine
In a jumble in the mind.

Spikes of love
Trailing up a taut, hard chest.
Provocative, evocative,
Tales of lust and eros
Clinging in a fist of sated wanting.
Clutch it hard, set it free
A stream, thick cream, juice of love
Shot far into intimate space,
Thrusting, probing, sweating, grunting
Spike and spasm, eluding, wanting
Shot far, cleaved into a mindless void.

Spikes of hate
Mindless, soulless, floating in time.
Missed pasts, missed futures, missed nows
Alone, lost and hating.
A dead father, a dead mother,
A son lost to grief
Yet fearing that a truth be known
And let loose upon a world
Ill prepared for knowledge profound.
Spirituality, prayer, Father, Son and Holy Ghost
Spattered on mensa top
The chalice of hate upturned,
Emptied, cast out, destroyed.
Grail of truth searches still
Resurrection, ascension, redemption,
Virgin birth to spiked cross
Upon the sacred soil
Blood is spilled.

Spikes of death
Bulging vein, tortured flesh
Candle and spoon unite in
Euphoric spasm, orgasmic longing
As slowly, quietly death
Enters through a door unseen.
Tantalised, seduced, psychotic
The path to enlightenment is long,
Twisted, warped, circling through space
Never being grounded, found
Or truth released in ecstasy.
Spiked coffin lid
Laid to rest in spiked grass earth.

Tim Alderman
Copyright ©2014


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